« Mental note to self | Main | Monday Update »


Feed You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.

I cannot say anything that I feel would be adequate, but your post with all of its honesty is so very touching. I understand your feeling about the difference you feel between Luke's loss and Ben's loss. When I lost our girl last year, I asked to be sedated and go for the operation. My RE thought a birth might be better, more real for me. That was exactly my fear, that it would be TOO real, that I would forever have the band aid that you describe. I have a very real mental scar, but I wanted to imagine my girl not after her birth, but as my mind had imagined she would be in her life. I've had regret some days that I was "weak," but it was my choice and I must live with it. I admire your strength so very much. I'm glad you are talking about your band aid, and that you are seeing someone, though I think your disassociation is to be expected. I'd like to think that Ben and Luke are very proud of you, and are pleased that they meant so very much to you that you would walk down the IVF path again, and expose your very raw nerves to all of these experiences again, so that you might see them in the eyes of your darling Kate and Adam, and that one day that glimmer would make you smile back equally proud of yourself.

tertia honey
later there will be plenty of time to deal with the grief over the loss of wee ben. you have identified the problem (or your v. canny mum has) and that's a huge beginning. right now, as you mentioned in another post, your focus does need to be on adam and kate.

loving takes great courage. you have never lacked courage, and although your self-protection is very understandable, it will be, and has been overwhelmed by your love for k&a.

i may not have email (server is bluk), but i am still praying for you, marko (husband of orderliness) and the babeolas. xoxo

So glad you will talk to someone about this. So proud of you for being brave enough to do it.

I know that although it might seem like you should be focusing on Kate and Adam, in reality you are doing this for them, as well as for yourself. So that you can have a fighting chance to heal a little before they arrive, so that their mother will be as whole as she can be.

Much love to you as you go through this.

This is scary shit. Your beautiful boy died very, very recently. Of course you are still grieving him and of course you got on the AD's and jumped on IVF again, because noone wants to stay in that pain. But it doesn't mean you are healed. And it does mean that you are going to terrified it could happen again.

I think you just might always wear a bandaid, and that's just fine. You'll love your children and be a phenomenal mother, but you there will always be tears for Ben.

My Aunt still tears up when she speaks of the daughter she lost when the baby was born prematurely 42 years ago. It's normal.

Keep talking about it.

take care...

Tertia, just wanted to say you have NOTHING to feel guilty about. You've been dealing with extraordinarily painful circumstances for years, dealing with them as best you can, and not letting them get the better of you. Be proud you jumped back in the saddle, be proud you were prepared to fight for what you want out of life. The survivor you have shown yourself to be will undoubtedly love Adam and Kate the way they need to be loved when the time is right. Don't beat yourself up! Guilt is so corrosive - what could you possibly have done differently/better? See, there's nothing. The fear is different, that I can understand. But the fear is there because of the very good thing, that you are pregnant right now. Try to focus on that. Hope none of that is assvice, if so, ignore completely.


I wish I had words of wisdom to give you but I don't. You know my story, all I can say is that you must do what is right for you for self preservation and for Kate and Adam. I lost my baby at 5 mos. but she wasn't born alive. All I remember was they told me I should hold her for my own sanity (they didn't put it that way but basically I felt like they were telling me this was best because then I wouldn't have a nervous breakdown which I feel like I did many times after that anyway). I held her, but all I can remember was tears kept flowing and I kept telling her to breath or cry. I just wanted to hear life come from her. To this day she will always be engraved in my heart, she will always be my little girl, to this day I can't go past the baby dept. or see a little girl and not wonder what my little girl would look like. For you, Ben was more real, you held him, he was yours. And he was just as strong as couragous as his mother and he is helping give you the courage to go on for Kate and Adam. Ben was real and I think at least for me (and I'm not a professional) it gave me more drive, more want, more desire to hold my baby again, a baby that was mine. Not that it would be Ben for you but Ben gave you more courage even though you may feel it is a weakness at times to lift that bandaid, that bandaid is the scar that is giving you the strength and determination to continue and to fight for Kate and Adam. When does the pain go away? Some can put it away I think and never look back but I can't. I think that bandaid is there forever and years later we will still cry, that scar will live forever because their life was precious. They were a part of us, they were inside us and they were supposed to be with us. We don't understand WHY they were taken from us and we never will. That kind of "pain" actually I don't know if there is a proper word for the torture of holding your baby in your arms and having to let go forever, is there a word??? How do you describe that to anyone??? I think we eventually come to a point in life when we lift that bandaid years later when we decide it's ok. Right now for you it is still "raw", of course it is! What you feel is real. Ben is still with you giving you strength to go on. You went right into another IVF because of Luke and Ben because even though you had losses before, these boys were so real to you. Write all the time, put every emotion into words, it IS therapy. You are normal to feel what you feel and healing, well I don't know how or when that happens. It's just not a choice sometimes that we get to place a date on, if ever but you have Kate and Adam in your future, just hang on to them and let them give you strength. You have a beautiful mother and father to hold on to for strength and Marko. Reach out when you need to and we are all here and we can feel your pain through your words, go ahead and pack it away for now. Try to focus on the good things, the happy thoughts, the new precious lives that you will be holding soon. Try to put your energy towards happiness and believe that Ben is helping you move in that direction. He is your inspiration and his life drove you to move on as fast as possible. I probably sound like a nut case but at times the brightest star in the sky I think is my little girl smiling at me or that butterfly that goes by slowly and so beautiful I think is a sign. Sometimes I see a dove sitting on my fence looking at me and I think, that's her and she's at peace as I watch it and eventually it flys away. All these things sound so crazy to most people (people reading this probably think I'm a freaking looney tune) but I deal with it MY way. You will eventually find YOUR way and find comfort in that. The bandaid is there forever, it's real, your tears, your fears, all of it Tertia is so real but your courage, your strength and determination. I admire you so much, I wish I had had the support you do to continue but I crumbled a year later after still trying. You didn't. I come here because I want to finally see that happy ending so I can believe it really does happen for someone else. I have known you for years now, not IRL but here and TLOL and I can't wait to see Kate and Adam. I am driven to come here daily because of your courage and strength. You are a success story, you don't feel that way right now but that is how I see you. Don't lift that bandaid right now. It's a permanent bandaid so when the time is right you will lift it. Until then my dear friend I wish you peace inside. Sorry this is so long but I can't help but feel for you so deeply. I wish I could be there IRL for you. Take care and continue to write.

Hi T. I think there is place for joy and pain to be side by side. I can hear it is turning your heart upside down to try and reconcile your feelings and it must be very difficult for you. I don't think your grieving for Ben diminshes or devalues Adam and Kate. And I don't think being excited about them devalues Ben. But talking it over sounds like a good idea. Love you lots.

I don't think I've ever commented before. I am compelled to comment now. Something you said about children not being interchangable. I'm almost 30, pregnant with my first and unmarried. I never wanted kids, I thought I could have an abortion if a bad situation arose. Well my fiance and I got pregnant. He wanted me to have an abortion as did his family. I couldn't do it. Things have been very difficult since deciding to keep the baby (I'm 35 weeks along today) and I've been through countless arguments with fiance who has two kids from a previous marriage. You gave me the words I've been searching for. Children are not interchangable. Having one after we were married would not replace the one that is inside me now. Thank you.

As far as your loss of Ben, my mother lost a son after 3 days of being able to hold him in the hospital. Brian. She has never gotten over his loss and neither have her other children as a result. We visited his gravesite several times a year with her as children, and we were told his story and how we is our brother, no matter that we never met him. I remember crying for him, praying for my mom, begging her to get better. She never got better because you can't heal from something like that. Your heart simply grows a little bigger and that extra part is meant only for your lost child/children. Never forget Ben, teach your children about him and his brother. God bless Ben and keep him safe as he watches over your growing family.

I love you, T.

Tertia dear,
you went through the most heart breaking experience, losing a precious child. I believe your scar will be raw for years to come. I think you should pat your back for deciding to survive this loss and heading straight into another cycle. I am not a therapist, but I experienced, not as strongly as you, the fear of something going wrong during my pregnancies. I knew life is so delicate and easily lost that I prevented my heart from bonding with my unborn children. If I did it, it is only normal that you, after your terrible loss, are doing too. You are trying to keep your heart from being hurt again. Adam and Kate will be OK, even if you are feeling like this. I hope your therapist will help you, but my guess is that your pain will come out when your babies are born, but because you will be incredibly happy somehow you will get through it.

I lost my MIL to cancer and somedays I take the band aid off and the pain is still there. It has been 4 years, and although her loss can not be compared with losing a child, it still hurts.

In the meantime, I will keep your little ones in my thoughts. Keep up the good work of bedrest!


PS Your letter to your mother was just amazing. I hope one day to be as good as a mother to my children as yours was/is to you. Thanks for being such an inspiration.

I don't think that you could ever be expected to stop grieving for Ben. Even though the pain may not be as raw at times, it will always hurt.

You didn't get jump into your next IVF to replace Ben. Holding your little boy and loving him with all of your bits confirmed what you always knew, being a mother is what you want to do.

Ben's spirit will always be with you.

I have come to believe that we all secretly favour our first born child (even those who haven't lost him/her). When I was pregnant with my second child, I remember feeling like there was no possible way that I could love her as much as my first child. My first child, Laura, lived a brief life... 9 days.

I love my second child, Analeigh, just as completely as I loved Laura. I actually felt guilty for loving her so much at first. I somehow thought that loving Analeigh meant that I didn't love/honour/remember Laura. Of course this was non-sense. I love both of my daughter equally, here and in heaven.

All makes perfect sense to me.

I'll send you a check, I'm assuming you charge the going rate for therapy, 5 days of stims or so?

Your feelings are complete normal. I don't know if I could have come through what you've been through as well as you. Of course you will never forget Ben and your fears about this pregnancy are normal. When you suffer a traumatic event, you shore yourself up for 'next' time. I'm sending you lots of prayers and love. There won't be a next time, next time it will be you taking those beautiful children home.



What you have ben through is beyond what any living creature should have to endure. I hope you realize how "brave" and how "special" you yourself are. As you teeter between love for Ben (and Luke and all the others) and love for Adam and Kate, love for your parents and love for Marko, I hope you will remember too to love your remarkable self.

The really corrosive thing about serial miscarriages can be the creeping assumption that we are not worthy of love, that if we were, we'd have succeeded by now in having a living child to love. You are so wonderfully caring to the people in your life, I hope you remember to care as deeply for yourself. If you need to grieve, grieve. If it feels better to bandage things over, then do that. Take care of you.

The mere fact that you reliably post day after day means a lot to me personally, even though I rarely delurk. In keeping us all "posted" you're caring for a world of readers too. You've got a lot resting on those gorgeous shoulders, girl. Please know how hard we are hoping for you, "heart in throat," all around the world.



What you have ben through is beyond what any living creature should have to endure. I hope you realize how "brave" and how "special" you yourself are. As you teeter between love for Ben (and Luke and all the others) and love for Adam and Kate, love for your parents and love for Marko, I hope you will remember too to love your remarkable self.

The really corrosive thing about serial miscarriages can be the creeping assumption that we are not worthy of love, that if we were, we'd have succeeded by now in having a living child to love. You are so wonderfully caring to the people in your life, I hope you remember to care as deeply for yourself. If you need to grieve, grieve. If it feels better to bandage things over, then do that. Take care of you.

The mere fact that you reliably post day after day means a lot to me personally, even though I rarely delurk. In keeping us all "posted" you're caring for a world of readers too. You've got a lot resting on those gorgeous shoulders, girl. Please know how hard we are hoping for you, "heart in throat," all around the world.


I am so sorry, Tertia.

Tertia...I've never lost a living child so I can't begin to imagine your pain. However, I have been through it with a very close friend. All I can tell you is what she told me...the pain and loss never completely go away but it does get better. You reach the point when you don't think about it all the time and when the pain doesn't stab straight through every time you do think about Ben. However, there will be days when its bad...even years in the future. Stay strong my dear. Your love for both Adam and Kate is incredibly apparent...so never doubt that.

I can't possibly know your heartache, but I do know that grieving is excruciatingly hard work. Sometimes that band-aid is the only protection from intolerable pain, and other times it absolutely must come off for a while. I'm pretty sure that finding the perfect balance takes a lifetime.

Thinking about you all the time, Tertia.

I pray for you.

I recently read that putting peroxide on a cut (common first aid practice) can actually inhibit healing because it heals the healthy cells in addition to the germs.

In other words, there's no quick route to healing. The work of repair just has to be done, and you my friend are doing a great job. You're talking about it, you've acknowledged your feelings, what's going on, and the wound will heal, leaving a scar forever on your heart. But in the form of a beautiful "BEN WAS AND IS STILL HERE" sign on your heart.

You will always love your first born, your baby boy, and you'll love these babies too. I have a feeling that their mother will make sure they know about Ben when the time is right, and that they will know how very loved ALL your children are. You're a great mother, Tertia.

Many thoughts and prayers are with you. There's a lot going on under that band-aid. Do what you can, when you can.

All my love.

I have never lost a livig child. I said goodbye to my Isabella at 31 weeks of pregnancy, after thinking everything was finally going to go ok. It didn't. She died. I can tell you from almost 4 years down the road, I still feel rather raw. My mom says it is much better for her, from over 20 years down the road.

I still have so many issues. I spent 9 and 10 weeks in the NICU with my twins 2 years ago. I don't know when the pain will fade, when it won't be quite so raw and sharp. It hasn't happened yet. I find it still colors my reactions to things.

No real ideas here, I just really felt the need to erspond.


We've talked before via email about our losses. You lost your boys, I lost my daughter, Marrissa.

It's been 20.5 months now since that awful day.

I don't know that time has made things better. I think I've just learned to live with the loss and pain.

The only way for me to describe it is this: It's as if this loss was at first a raw gaping wound. With time, it begins to heal a bit, to scab over. Then something happens and the scab is torn off, the wound open and raw again. Most days the scab stays in place, but there are days when nothing will hold it. It comes off, the pain deep and searing, knocking the wind out of your lungs. You breathe through it till it scabs over again. The nature of the wound is such that it will never heal completely. But you can breathe through the times when the scab is torn away.

Holidays are coming, birthdays, death days. The firsts are almost over for you. Starting on seconds when you never even got a lifetime of firsts with your sons at your side. It is not right, not fair.

Some say the second year is harder. The numbness and shock have worn off. Reality is there staring you in the face. An unwanted guest in your life that will just not go away.

In many ways this second year has been worse. But with it has been immense joys. Watching my twins growing up. Learning new things. My other kids starting to smile again, to claim back a bit of who they were before losing their sister. My grandson- my god I feel so old saying that! So many blessings in the pain.

Our children will be carried in our hearts for the rest of our days. Loved with each breath we take, remembered each step of our journey here. I'd like to believe they are on the other side waiting for us and will greet us with open arms.

As always, you are often in my thoughts and prayers. Be gentle with yourself..


Grief is an entirely different experience for each and every person who has something to grieve. The one definitive thing I feel I have learned through all the hurt, fear and torture that has occurred throughout my life is that you must not question the form that grief takes for you. You cannot allow yourself to feel guilty about it, it simply makes if worse. Your mind and body know what you must work through in order to come out whole on the other side. Logic and concious thought fight violently agaist that process. Thoughts about how you think you should feel can become overwhelming. This is an experience that I know all too well. Allow yourself to feel the way you need to feel. Do not allow yourself guilt over those feelings. They are real and are the path to your healing.

You will feel all those feelings, that bonded feeling you you are missing with Adam, in time. It will come in time. Do not feel guilty while you wait. You have no reason to.

The human heart is a complicated thing. I doubt anyone will every full comprehend the depth of human emotion, especially when pushed to the limit.

Sorry that sounded like a big lecture. This is the one thing I feel I have figured out in life. How sad.

You and Kate and Adam are in my thoughts daily. I will say prayers for your peace of mind and heart.

My heart is breaking for all of you brave women who have held a baby in your arms, only to have him or her taken away. I only know the pain of miscarriage, but I feel as though I might snap in two if I went through what you have endured.
My gut is that you will have no trouble falling in deep, deep love with your new babies, Tertia, but I also don't think they'll ever take up the space in your heart reserved for Ben. They're not supposed to.
I admire you- for being you. Keep on with the struggle to figure this all out...

I have been thinking about this a lot, especially after the boys were running around on your lawn. Afterwards I thought that must have been hard. I know how amazing you are to them but it must have been hard. Think of you often.

I lost my eighteen-month-old daughter over four years ago. Do you know that the wound still has not healed? I’ve learned to live with it; I’ve learned to go throughout my day without breaking down in tears, without losing my mind… But a certain song will play on the radio, I’ll be driving down the road late at night and suddenly, that Band-Aid that you speak of, is ripped off. And I’ll be sobbing, utterly devastated once again.

I wish there was an easier answer. I wish I could tell you it will all be better when you hold your sweet Adam and Kate in your arms, but that’s not true. It will probably be rougher at first- because a lot of your ‘firsts’ you will experience with your second and third born, not your firstborn. And that’s going to burn more then I can say- I know. I have a 4 ½ year old daughter and it’s hard to grasp how she can be older then her older sister- if that makes sense. She was 7 weeks old when her sister died.

If only there was an easy cure for a broken heart… I wish there was one.


While I cannot begin to fathom your loss, I just wanted to let you know that I am very much in awe of your strength and perseverance. I will not even begin to say that I understand what you've been through, for I don't... but that is not to say that my heart is not heavy for you. But, from the limited way that I've gotten to "know" you via your blog, I see so many wonderful qualities in you - that I hope to emulate when I have the opportunity to be a parent.


I know grief takes a long while to heal, but is it supposed to feel so sore still? Is my heart still supposed to break when I think of him and his short little life?

Especially when there are undeniable milestones that remind us that life is going forward without them. It hurts.

The comments to this entry are closed.


  • Medsitters Au pairs

More Ads

| More


Bloggy Stuff

  • Living and Loving

  • SA Blog Awards Badge

  • Featured in Alltop

  • Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

  • RSS Feed
Blog powered by Typepad
This is the Reviews Design